Then the realization of what that implies almost knocked me over. This was the very first step to the first born, my son, to learning that he doesn't need me as much. I realized in my horror that I will never have him home with me 7 days a week anymore. It made my heart hurt.
This is the beginning. The beginning of worrying if he is being made fun of, eating his lunch, wearing his coat, being kind to others, paying attention to his teacher and keeping his hands to himself. My mind raced ahead. He has such a joyful spirit about him. I don't want him to lose that. I love the way he wants to lay down with me while he watches his toons. I love the way his little hand feels in mine. They way he calls me mama and crawls into my lap. His giggling which is contagious to anyone that hears it. I don't want anything or anyone to ever hurt him.
Its scary for me as a mama because I know he will hurt and struggle. That's part of life.
I have to make harder choices now. What preschool should I send him to? What school district should I put him in? Is there anyway that I can afford private school for him? Is that even a wise choice for our family? My mind and heart hurts as I realize these choices that I am making for him is going to MATTER.
I could hang on to him. I could squeeze another year or two with him. I would be doing it for me, however. God has graced me with a independent, outgoing, extrovert son. He needs people. He thrives in a classroom setting. He practically knocks me over trying to get into his class at church.
So I will pray. I will pray that God takes care of the unique child that he has let me borrow from him. That he will grant me wisdom during these important years and lead us in the right direction as parents. And I will cry in my car when I drop him off that first day. (ok maybe the first week...ok maybe I am crying now thinking about it) But I will smile when I pick him up because I want him to run his own coarse. I don't want him worrying about me when he should be having fun and learning.
I will smile and stalk his classroom until they tell me to stop peeking in the window.
1 comments:
I felt this exact same way the first time my two year old started singing a song I did not teach her. I thought were did she learn that. My brain couldn't even understand the concept that things happened to her that didn't include me!
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